The Villainess Duke Lady Hides Her Identity - Chapter 82

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 82

Havelian wiped his hand on his trousers, then ran his clean fingers through Reponya’s hair.
“I’ve never known quiet like this. Even alone in an empty room, my mind was always loud, always pushing me to do something, anything.”
……
“Now it feels like sitting in a forest where the air is still and perfect, soaking in the sunlight.”
Until now, Havelian had done nothing but chase shadows, searching for a true princess—anxious, always hurried, always running.
So this peace must have begun the moment he accepted his sister’s absence.
“If you’d come to us sooner—”
He murmured as he stroked her hair. Reponya let out a soft laugh.
‘If I’d received the mission to steal the Craitan Family Heirloom any sooner, we never would’ve become family at all.’
If the mission had come before she sought out the Shrinking Potion, she would never have drunk it in the first place—would have found another way entirely.
Maybe she would have infiltrated as a servant. Maybe she’d have been discovered then, and died at the hands of Duke Craitan or one of his brothers.
Maybe she would have wept and begged for her life.
Reponya was just about to speak.
Gasp.
A sharp intake of breath.
From somewhere nearby came the sound of people holding their breath loudly.
“Hm?”
She turned to look, and saw several Academy students in uniform. The moment their eyes met, they clapped trembling hands over their mouths.
“C-Craitan… young master. Gasp.”
“Y-Young master, we greet you.”
The students trembled like aspen leaves, even holding their breath in fear of Havelian.
‘I suppose he was frightening when I first met him.’
Reponya remembered her first encounter with Havelian as she watched the students.
Especially since he’d been an Academy instructor training cadets—how much more terrifying must he seem to Academy students?
The students kept their heads bowed, trying to hurry past as if they’d seen someone they should never have encountered.
That was when.
One of the students whose eyes had met Reponya’s opened her lips.
“Wait. So that cute little white rabbit next to him is actually…”
“The younger sibling of legend who defeated Fellens?”
“Oh my. How adorable.”
Something odd seemed to have slipped into their words.
‘They called him “senior,” so they must be Fellens’s juniors.’
“Unbelievable. So cute. How does that kind of sibling come from that kind of senior?”
What?
Reponya tilted her head at being talked about, and the younger students held their breath, bouncing on their toes.
That was when Havelian stretched out his hand and covered Reponya’s face.
“Move along.”
His voice was clipped, flat—the same emotionless, matter-of-fact tone he’d used when he first arrived at the Estate.
“Is my sister a spectacle for your amusement?”
“We apologize. We sincerely apologize.”
“Y-Yes, yes we do!”
The younger students trembled at his cold voice, shaking like leaves.
A weapon without feeling.
The sharp assessment others had made of Havelian suddenly came to mind. Reponya turned to look at him.
‘…That’s not true.’
Though he’d sent Reponya to the Orphanage, he’d returned afterward to find her—and she knew he’d wept.
More than that: he’d suffered, agonized, grown desperate searching for a sister he couldn’t find.
There was no way such a person could be without feeling.
Even if no one else understood.
‘They say changing a reputation starts with those closest by.’
Reponya took hold of Havelian’s hand and lowered it from her face.
“Havelian.”
“Yes?”
“Why are you being so cold to the younger students? They’ll be frightened. Besides, you graduated from the Academy too—they’re your juniors.”
Reponya shifted her expression into place.
With the face of a beloved five-year-old sister, doted on by a kind older brother.
Essentially, it was the “My brother is really so good to me. He’s the best and treats me so well!” operation.
“Hi there.”
To appear authentically five years old, she softened her tongue deliberately.
Reponya beamed at the frozen students.
Though they wore Academy uniforms, upon graduation these noble children would take positions in the capital’s upper echelons.
They were small birds destined to carry the gossip of high society on their wings.
“I came to cheer on Fellens.”
Reponya smiled brightly. She had performed many roles in service of the Pope’s Mission, so this came naturally.
“Oh my. So cute.”
Someone called out softly. Then a female student shyly waved her hand.
“Hello there.”
Reponya grinned widely and waved back.
“Hi, sister!”
Quick rapport through proper address was essential.
Havelian, watching from the side, started to say something, but Reponya pressed the back of his hand down with her small palm first.
It wouldn’t have hurt, of course, but it was a silent pressure to stay quiet and still.
Once Reponya caught Havelian’s eye, she turned back to the younger students with a bright smile.
“Wow! Why is she so incredibly cute?”
From her years at the Orphanage, she understood well what kind of child people adored.
First, you had to smile brightly rather than cry.
When smiling, you mustn’t laugh loudly—you had to focus on your expression, appearing innocent and gentle.
And you absolutely couldn’t dart around restlessly in every direction.
If a child approached first, people might find it bothersome or burdensome, so it was best to wait like a doll on a shelf for them to come near.
But when people approached first, you had to accept them without resistance.
Because while people dislike children who rush forward aggressively, they also don’t think a shy child looks innocent.
“You’re really adorable. Wow. How old are you?”
When asked a question, you had to answer precisely and quickly. Hesitation or slow responses weren’t appreciated either.
“Five yeals!”
Reponya held up all five fingers spread wide, compensating for her imperfect pronunciation.
“Can I ask your name?”
“Yep! Reponya!”
You had to stay engaged in conversation and never lose the thread or show confusion.
People thought badly of children who made them repeat themselves.
‘Being five years old was exhausting after all.’
Reponya laughed brightly and sat on a bench, swinging her short legs lightly back and forth.
Before long, the students who had hung back at a distance had drawn nearer.
Havelian sat with his posture rigid, legs crossed, arms folded, watching with such evident displeasure that his face had grown stern.
But he obeyed Reponya’s silent instruction to stay quiet.
The students, gauging Havelian’s mood, crept a little closer.
‘The reason he’s displeased is that everyone’s watching his reaction so obviously. Who wouldn’t feel bad about that?’
Reponya clenched her fists.
“Little one. Are you resting with Duke Craitan?”
“Yep! My brother was so nice and showed me the Academy too.”
“N-nice… oh. Um?”
Beginning the campaign: my brother is a good and considerate older brother.
“Havelian is always, always so good to me.”
Reponya broke into a wide grin, her large eyes crinkling as she giggled like a true five-year-old, and the students’ jaws dropped.
“When we eat, he always cuts my food up first.”
Rather than attend to his own meals, Havelian always saw to Reponya’s first.
Not only did he cut everything into child-sized bites, but he would even blow on hot food to cool it.
“He reads to me all the time too.”
Though Reponya knew all her letters, he would insist on reading her favorite books aloud.
“And if I’m ever in danger, he just appears and saves me!”
Even when she rode her hobbyhorse around the Estate, he always followed quietly behind.
“And whenever he makes a mistake with me, he always apologizes right away.”
He always made a point of saying he was sorry when he was wrong, thank you when grateful—always explaining himself in words.
“And every single day he hugs me tiiight like this.”
Sometimes when walking, he cradled her in his arms as if holding something precious.
“I—”
Reponya faltered mid-sentence.
She lowered her gaze, murmuring softly.
“I… I really like my brother so much.”
My brother. My own brother.
The sincerity in Reponya’s final words hung so thick that everyone fell silent.
She quickly shifted her expression, breaking into a smile as bright and innocent as a five-year-old’s.
The students wore subtle expressions, as though questioning whether this was genuine.
Some chose to laugh it off as childish prattle, their suspicion barely masked.
“Look at this.”
Reponya lifted Havelian’s outer coat, which she was wearing proudly as though displaying a prize.
“I said I was cold, so my brother gave it to me. Hehe.”
The evidence was perfect. The students gasped when they saw Reponya bundled in the coat while Havelian stood in nothing but a thin shirt.
“My brother’s the best, isn’t he?”
She laughed with such warmth, like a child who had never seen a single cloud—only sunshine filling her heart.
A female student nodded, her face flushed, and reached out to stroke Reponya’s hair.
“You’re really so cute. Your name is Reponya, right? Reponya. My little sister is loud and always crying… would you like to come to my tea party later?”
“Uh-huh!”
She’d thought she was accustomed to it—Duke Craitan, Havelian, and Fellens ruffled her hair so often.
“Me too! Can I touch your hair? Wow… it’s so fluffy. Like touching a cloud.”
The touch carried no malice, yet an uncomfortable feeling crept up her spine. It was that false assumption—that a child would accept anything, be content with any touch or embrace.
That delusion that one could touch without asking, without permission.
‘That’s strange. When Duke Craitan, my two brothers, and Rudeuum touched me, it was fine.’
Reponya flinched, and she was about to wipe away her stiffened expression to smile again.
Tap.
Havelian, who had been watching from the side, coldly brushed away the hands touching Reponya’s hair.
“Don’t touch.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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